


Transformed

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2020-03-13 05:43:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18934642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: By CarlyWhat if Gabrielle hadn't interrupted Xena and Ares in the bath? An alternate version of "Chakram".





	Transformed

**Author's Note:**

> What if Gabrielle hadn't interrupted Xena and Ares in the bath? An alternate version of "Chakram".

It was so cold.

 

Xena drew the blanket around her more closely, noticing how stiff her limbs felt. She looked down at the wounds in her hands, and shuddered. Gabrielle’s head rested lightly on her shoulder, and even that slight weight caused her to wince. But somehow the thought of Gabrielle being apart from her filled her with panic.

 

“Xena?”

 

She looked up, and Amarice held out her hand. “Come, now. We have to go down to the markets – you and Gabrielle will freeze, if we stay here.”

 

That made sense. She got up gingerly, following the others as they made their way down the hillside towards the small village below. No one spoke to her; they refused to meet her eyes. She knew why, of course. Somehow, Eli had brought Gabrielle and herself back from the dead; but she’d come back all wrong.

 

 

*****

 

“We showed them!” Amarice crowed, dancing ahead of the others. “All armoured, with every weapon at their disposal – but Amazon skill won out again!”

 

Joxer rolled his eyes. “Most of us _aren’t_ Amazons, Amarice, and we did all right.”

 

“Come on! Gabrielle and I – the Amazons amongst you – saved . . .”

 

“It was Xena’s quick thinking that rescued you, actually.” Eli pointed out coolly. “Perhaps you should thank her.”

 

“Yeah, more like _in spite of_ the Amazons in the crowd . . .” Joxer began unkindly, and the pair moved ahead, bickering. Gabrielle strode after them, trying to make peace, while Eli lingered behind.

 

“Don’t worry about Amarice.” He told her quietly. “Your deaths shattered her.”

 

Xena nodded. “I can see that. And that she admired who I was . . . who I no longer am.” She shrugged unhappily. “I can remember such joy – my mother, my brother, my friends . . . why then do I feel so empty?”

 

“Because you weren’t – nobody is – made up simply of those we love. We’re also our enemies, too.” And he looked up at the horizon, where a dark castle loomed. “And you can remember no enemies.”

 

Xena followed his gaze. They weren’t headed for the castle, but for a cave where Eli’s friend lived, and yet – there was something about the menacing building that drew her. As though answers weren’t to be found in the books of a saint, but the annals of a warrior.

 

“Amarice!”

 

Xena heard Gabrielle’s exasperated voice, and moved ahead. She touched her friend’s hand gently and smiled at her. So many of her memories were dim, but there was nothing faded about the love she felt for her soul-mate.

 

“I’m going to find us something to eat.” Amarice announced coolly, slinging her bow over her shoulder.

 

“I’ll tag along.” Xena promised Gabrielle, who was looking exhausted. “Here – Amarice?”

 

She stepped behind her, startling her. The Amazon let out a gasp. “Stop it!” She cried petulantly, but Xena saw that she was near tears. “Stop being so childish, and act – act normal!”

 

She ran off into the woods, but Xena followed behind closely. “Hey – hey Amarice!”

 

The girl stopped under Xena’s imperative voice. “What?”

 

Xena laid a firm hand on the girl’s shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry I’m not the one you wanted to see, when I opened my eyes.” She said quietly. “And I’m sorry I’m not the hero who you remember. But – Amarice, was I ever really that hero?”

 

“No.” Amarice replied furiously. “Because then you wouldn’t have died. You wouldn’t have let Gabrielle go after that stupid Way of Peace, and you wouldn’t have let the Romans kill you, and you wouldn’t have died, not ever!”

 

Xena sighed, as Amarice turned her face away, staring resolutely into the trees, not allowing a single tear to fall.

 

“I’ve disappointed you a thousand times, and I’ll disappoint you time and time again, Amarice.” She said finally. “Because I’m no hero – just a woman. And at the moment, a woman who needs her friends more than ever.”

 

Amarice drew a hand hastily across her eyes, and turned back to Xena. Then she nodded, and managed a smile. “All right, then, friend. Let’s hunt.”

 

“Let’s hunt, indeed.”

 

The two women turned at the voice, and saw the soldiers emerge from the brush, headed by an armoured warrior. Xena looked up involuntarily – the castle seemed closer than ever.

 

The soldiers ran forward, ignoring Xena and surrounding Amarice, holding a blade to her throat.

 

“Come quietly, Xena, and we’ll leave her alive.”

 

“No – Xena, no!” Amarice cried out, struggling.

 

Xena locked eyes with her friend. “Remember, I need my friends.” She told Amarice, and then smiled a little. “I need them alive.”

 

Then she stepped forward to the warrior. “Let’s go.”

 

Two soldiers took her arms, leading through the woodlands, higher and higher, until they approached a narrow path which Xena realised would lead to the castle. Perhaps she had always known she would end there; perhaps it would end with her death. The word had no sense or feeling to her; but she looked down at her scarred hands again.

 

Finally she was taken into a large hall, filled with murals of battle, weapons, and huge carved statues. The soldiers chained her to a large pillar, and she stared about curiously. It was as though such a place should be familiar to her, and all its trappings as well-known as the lines on her hands. But they had no meaning to her at all.

 

But somehow it felt as though she had finally arrived at the right place.

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

Xena looked at the man, and realised he was in fact a god.

 

“No.” She replied truthfully. “And I don’t know what you want with me.”

 

He grinned. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He touched the side of her face gently. “I’m Kal, the god in this region of the world . . . a god of war, and the things of war.” He moved a finger, and an axe flew through the air, burying itself into a stone pillar. “I know more than just war-tales, however . . . I know stories of life, and of death.”

 

A strange feeling came over Xena, a heat and a prickle of excitement – but she dared not turn her gaze from Kal’s face.

 

“They say that to draw a woman of war from death’s grasp is a great thing. It is rare, to bring back a warrior from the grave, and can only be done with the greatest difficulty. But if done . . . well, she brings back more than she ever had when she left.”

 

Then he chuckled, but Xena felt confused. If anything, she had lost something, lost half of herself. But Kal drew closer now, moving his body to hers, his face just inches away from her own.

 

“And,” he whispered, “melding one’s body, one’s soul with this woman of war creates something of enormous power . . .”

 

Xena finally understood his intention, and jerked away in revulsion.

 

“Whatever you do to my body, you will never have my soul.” She assured him coldly. “And my friends will rescue me before long . . .”

 

Suddenly Kal was pushed away by some invisible force. Xena gasped as she saw the god fly through the air and crash, senseless, against the far wall. Again she felt the heat of another’s presence. She turned, and her chains fell from her wrists.

 

A man stood before her, eyes dark and mischievous, clad in leather, a sword at his side.

 

“He will never have you.” The man promised. “Go now – rejoin your friends . . .” He pointed to the open door. Xena hesitated, then ran for freedom.

 

 

*****

 

Xena soaked herself in the warmth of the steaming bath and sighed with pleasure. It was good of Eli’s friend to welcome them so; and it was wonderful to have a moment of peace to think about the things that had happened.

 

Eli had been certain she had come back the way she had for a reason. And Kal – this strange god – was equally certain that it was in order for her to “meld” with him and “create” something of power . . . her lip turned in disgust.

 

Xena’s thoughts turned instead to her rescuer. She dipped her hands in the water and splashed a little over her face. That look in his eyes when he saw her, as though he knew her, even as she was now . . .the strange feeling she had had when he’d appeared . . .

 

The feeling washed over her again, and she closed her eyes involuntarily, her body suddenly aware, breaths somehow harder to take. He was behind her, stroking her hair, moving his hand now along the curves of her face, but this touch didn’t revolt her at all . . .

 

“I know you.” She breathed, turning, standing and facing him. “I don’t remember why –“

 

“You will.” He promised, smiling a little. “Come with me.” He reached out a hand, and she took it.

 

Xena gasped, as the walls shuddered and faded, changing from dim bath-house to a brightly-lit room. She looked around curiously at the rich tapestries covering the walls, the large open windows letting in the cool breeze, and the sight and sound of the sea.

 

Looking down, she saw that she was now dry and clothed. An eyebrow lifted, and she saw him grin.

 

“Buttons are fun. I’ll show you why, later.”

 

She moved slowly towards him. “You must be a god, to do what you just did.”

 

He nodded. “I am. My name is Ares. We knew each other long ago.”

 

“Kal wanted me, too. He said I could give him great power . . .”

 

“Yet that means nothing to you.” Ares finished, watching her carefully as she nodded. “Evil, bad . . . those words mean nothing at all.”

 

She shook her head. “I came back this way for a reason. But I can’t stay this way forever –“

 

Ares moved closer, grasping her hand. “We can alter each other.” He told her.

 

“You can fill my emptiness . . .” She whispered, lifting her free hand to his face.

 

“ . . . and you can transform my soul.” He finished, drawing him to her. When their lips finally met a spark flew – Ares jolted, and stepped back, and laughed a little shakily. “What was it said about power?”

 

He hesitated while she waited, watching him, and then he moved forward again. This time their lips met in the softest of kisses. Xena had no memories of any kisses she had had before, and yet she knew that with the memory of this kiss there would be need for no others. His mouth, firm upon her own; his hand stroking her hair, and pulling her tight to himself –

 

Then his mouth moved, from her lips, to the curve of her face, kissing the softness of her skin, kissing her throat till she sighed with pleasure. His right arm held her close to him, but with his left he slowly undid each button imprisoning her, kissing further and further until the momentary delay of her clothing maddened her. She moved up her own hands to rid herself of the gown, and he laughed at her impatience.

 

“Here.” He offered, drawing his hand slowly over her while the gown trembled, faded, disappeared. Then he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, lying her gently on the soft covers, spreading out her dark hair about her, and lying by her himself, watching her.

 

“Are you afraid?” Xena asked quietly.

 

He laughed a little. “Don’t you remember anything of me? I can’t fear – and yet – “ He grew thoughtful. “This power may not be what I think. It feels different, somehow . . .”

 

She traced a hand over his chest beneath his vest, watching his face transform under her touch. Then, impatiently, she saw his fingers snap, and the leather clothes disappear as rapidly as had her own. She allowed herself to draw her hand down further, and smiled a little at his hoarse cry.

 

His hand stopped her wanderings; he moved over her, caressing her face, kissing her gently, then fervently, moving his hands over her body until her own cries more than matched his. She watched him smile at her pleasure; but then she could see nothing at all. And then everything.

 

If any hesitation remained about the power she could unleash in him, it was forgotten. He joined her, feeling her soft body move beneath him, become one with his soul. He clutched her to him, kissing the beauty of her eyes, the loveliness of her face, the unique strength of her body. Everything she had ever said to him came to him; every look, every touch. He cried out hoarsely, and then moved from her, staring.

 

“Ares.” She had leapt up from the bed in an instant, and was staring at him with utter fury in her eyes, a sheet clutched about her. “How could you!”

 

He couldn’t help but smile at her. “Good to see you back . . .” Then his voice changed. “What have you done to me?”

 

“Taking advantage of me –“ She threw back, ignoring his question. “I was innocent, and so the first thing you thought of to do was –“

 

He wanted to leave, but somehow he couldn’t. The power – it was some kind of knowledge, but what knowledge could ever have transformed him so?

 

“And creating something of power.” Xena went on, pacing now. “What is it?” She looked about. “A weapon, an army, what?”

 

Suddenly he couldn’t bear it. He knew all, and he couldn’t bear it. He moved forward and placed his hand firm upon her, sending her back to her bath. She looked at him, a moment before she disappeared.

 

"What is this power? What is its name?"

 

He had filled her emptiness with child, and she had utterly transformed his soul.

 

"One word you never forgot." He murmured, suddenly wretched. "Love."


End file.
